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Malet, Lucas, 1852-1931

"Deadham Hard"


"That depends a good deal upon you--doesn't it, Colonel Sahib?" our
maiden gravely answered.
Carteret felt as though she dealt him a blow. The pain was numbing. He
could neither see, nor could he think clearly. But he traced Mrs.
Frayling's hand in this, and could have cursed her elaborately--had it
been worth while. But was anything worth while, just now? He inclined to
believe not--so called himself a doating fool. And then, though
tormented, shaken, turned his mind to making things easy for Damaris.
"Oh! I see that," he told her. "And now you have got hold of your
precious little self again and made a start, it's easy enough to manage
your affairs--in as far as they need any management of mine--from a
distance. This beginning again is triumphant. I congratulate you! You're
your own best physician. You know how to treat your case to a marvel. So
I abdicate."
"But why? Why abdicate? Do you mean go away? Then Henrietta was right.
What she said was true. I never believed her. I"--
Damaris grew tall in her shame and anger.


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